I feel so trapped. Trapped in this body, trapped beneath this skin with its layers of fat underneath. I feel so huge. I feel like I’m exploding, spilling over with fat, incredibly pudgy and thick. I’m sure I’ve got love handles. My stomach isn’t how I’m used to it being; it’s getting areas that aren’t perfectly flat and smooth and I hate it. I hate it I hate it I hate it. I feel so damned trapped in this body.
Body dysmorphia is not being kind.
But I feel like I have no right struggle. I don’t know what to do about it. I’m out of treatment, after all. The fight was supposed to be easier now. I’m not supposed to be sitting here wanting to give in to all these urges; I’m not supposed to be leaning this far into Ana’s call. What happened? What’s going on? Why is this so fucking hard?
I’m supposed to be okay now. I’m not supposed to go leaning on other people again. I did that before. Now it’s my turn to stand on my own two feet and be a big girl and handle myself.
The only problem is that then I’m left with myself, screaming on the inside.
I feel so trapped, and I hate it.